


Reunite

by TheEntireFangirl



Category: Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo, The Grisha Trilogy - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: F/M, M/M, Post-Crooked Kingdom
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-13
Packaged: 2019-03-01 09:58:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13292430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheEntireFangirl/pseuds/TheEntireFangirl
Summary: Inej Ghafa was reunited with her family two years ago, and goes to visit them often between her travels catching slavers. But when her family doesn't respond for the first time in two years, she seeks out old help to find what she can't.Jesper Fahey and Nina Zenik have both made a temporary life together in the Little Palace, training their Grisha abilities. But both of them know it's temporary, and both of them can't wait to go back to their loved ones. So when old friends come to call, they both know that this is when they should break away.Wylan Van Eck has made his life again. While he still can't read, he's running his father's empire and getting to know his mother who he lost for so long again. He never thought he would go back to the life he only lived for a few weeks. But when duty calls. . . .Kaz Brekker has made a name for himself again, this time bigger and brighter than before. But lost souls never forget the ones who guided them, and Kaz has never been more lost. So remembering seems to be the only thing he can properly do.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story takes place two years after Crooked Kingdom ends.  
> I wasn't trying with the title whatsoever. I'll change it later, but it kinda gives the gist of the story without giving anything away. If you have title suggestions, please share them!

**INEJ**

Looking out on the sea, Inej felt happy. The feeling, when Inej was with the Dregs, had been scarce, but as the captain of her own ship, Inej felt like it was the only feeling in the world.

Inej had a few people that she was returning. One sibling pair, a four-year-old boy and a fifteen-year-old girl; one Grisha who ran from being brought to the Little Palace but was captured by slavers; and one boy who ran from the orphanage he was living in to fight in the First Army only to get captured on the way.

Inej usually liked to go with her crew as she returns the lost people, but now she had someplace to be. The coming winter meant that her parents would be arriving in Katsk, a moderately wealthy town in southern Ravka that always welcomed the Suli family's performance during winter and summer.

"You'll be fine on your own, Captain?" one of the sailors, a Fjerdan Grisha named Siv, asked in heavily accented Kerch. That was the language that Inej preferred her crew to speak, though she'd learned Fjerdan, Zemeni, Kaelish, and Shu in the two years that she'd been a captain.

"I've been taking care of myself far longer than most people realize, thank you," Inej replied with a smile. "Make sure that they all make it home."

Siv gave her a smile back. "Aye."

Inej went to her quarters, taking in the salty scent, the scent that Inej had come to associate with freedom. But it was only one of the scents she loved so much. She also loved the scent of home, the scent of Suli bread and tradition and the unknown.

Inej was going to go home someday, permanently. She knew it. She just couldn't bear to stop hunting slavers. She had so much penance to do, and then she wanted to do more slaver hunting, because that's what made her truly happy. She wanted to be in this world without the risk of being captured at any given time. Inej looked around her cabin, grabbing her knives really quickly. Her knives, named after the saints she knew protected her, still protect her today, even though she had been out of the Barrel for nearly as long as she had been a ship captain, she still felt safer with her wouldx set up and then some, slung over her shoulder.

Her crew was lined up, ready to go, with the few freed slaves in a bunch at the end of the line. All of them were Ravkan, so that's the language she spoke to them in. "My crew will protect you," she told them. "I must go, but you can trust them with your life. Many of them were slaves themselves."

She stepped towards them. The older ones didn't look scared, but the youngest one, the four-year-old boy, was nestled into his sister's skirt. Inej looked to her for permission, and she nodded. "What's your name?" she asked him.

He burrowed further into his sister's skirt, but said, "Dominik."

Inej smiled a little. "You were captured. You wanna know a secret?" He stepped out of the muddy fabric at the mention of a secret and nodded timidly. "I was captured too once."

His dark eyes went wide, and Inej felt the eyes of the other freed slaves' fall to her, but ignored them. "You were?" he asked.

She smiled again. "I was. But no one came to get me, like we got you, so I was sold off. But I wasn't afraid, even then, so you need to be brave now. Can you promise that you'll be brave, that you'll listen to me?" Dominik nodded. "Good. You have to be brave, for me. Thank you."

She got up, and Dominik stepped out of his sister's skirt, but he stayed close by her. Inej nodded. She knew that it was a lie, though. She had been very afraid. More than she ever had been in her life. More than when she walked the tight rope the first time, more than when she was purposely getting herself arrested at the Ice Court.

She looked to Levi, her second in command. He was one of the few people who Rotty had helped her pick for her crew and she still had on her crew. He was Kerch, never enslaved, though he fought as much as Inej did for slaves' freedom and he was the one to help Inej learn the ways of sailing.

In Kerch, she said, "I trust you with these freed slaves, the rest of my crew, and my ship. And you can trust me when I say, if you let anything happen to them that you could have helped, I will show you the same mercy." They were harsh words, but Inej said them with a smile. Every time Inej left the ship in his command, those were the words she used. The first time she said it, she had scared him half to death, and every time she said it the words got lighter and lighter. In truth, she would trust Levi with her life.

"I'll miss you too, Inej." And though Inej had never done that before, Inej pulled him into a hug before she left.

Then, she exited silently as her crew called their farewells in their different languages, even Dominik's voice sticking out with a Ravkan, "Goodbye!"

* * *

Winters in Ravka were something Inej had gotten used to going without. Kerch was humid all year, and winter just meant that the winds go from warm to cool. But in Ravka, winters meant that the rain goes to snow, the cooling breeze goes to a howling wind. It meant that the water will freeze, and though it was nothing like what was felt in Fjerda, in some ways, Inej thought it was worse. But it still felt like home.

Inej walked through the town, passing silently between strangers, a habit she picked up as the Wraith. When she first started sailing, going through towns was much more of an event. Inej would walk the little alleys that no one else saw, go on the roofs if she was in Ketterdam for some reason. But she resisted the urge and she walked on the streets like a normal person, only stopping to go to the market.

Food during the Ravkan winter was always sparse, but this little town seemed to be doing alright. Inej looked at the stand that was set up, filled with alleged bones of Saints: Sankta Lizabeta, Sankt Ilya, Sankt Petyr, Sankta Alina. Inej knew that they weren't real, but she couldn't help but think of Nina with her unique power of controlling the dead. Inej thought about how she was closer to Nina than she had been in two years. At least, when you're talking about distance.

She bought another blanket for the journey, seeing as she underestimated the cold of Ravkan winters. Then she kept going, thinking about Nina and Jesper in the Little Palace. Inej had never been there, of course, but she wrote to Nina a few times. Nina was training with her new powers with the rest of the Grisha, then, once she felt ready, she would go to Fjerda and help the drüskelle get over their biases, come to accept Grisha, just as Matthias had wanted.

Jesper was studying there, too. Just because Wylan made him if he wanted to continue working with him. Not that Inej believed for a second that Wylan could actually keep away from Jesper for long, with no contact at all. Inej wished that she could talk with her friends —  _really_ talk, face to face. With all of them. Nina and Jesper and Wylan and Kaz and Matthias. It had been the longest since Inej had talked to Kaz, but she never went a day without thinking about him, about her promise to him, about his words.

 _Promise you'll come back._ He wanted her, he wanted her to come back. He had held her hand, even though Inej knew he couldn't bear it. Then, she had thought that he was getting better. Now, she was sure that it meant one thing:  _I am not better. But I promise to try to get better.  
_

Inej knew that nothing in life was an absolute. She knew that life would not let saying something just make it true. But she knew that if someone said they would try, they meant it. And trying was what counted most, too. Because you can't truly control what happens, but you can put an effort into making it better. You can  _try_.

Before Inej knew it, it was dark. She wasn't quite out of the town yet, but buildings were sparse enough that she didn't want to find an inn to stay at. Instead, she set up her tent, a small thing that was built to keep out heat, and piled herself with blankets as she ate dinner. She thought of her friends, of her family, and of the people who were both. She went to sleep with happy thoughts in her head.


	2. Chapter 2

** JESPER **

The project before him was kind of tricky, but Jesper had done more difficult in a shorter amount of time. Besides, for the prototype model, he was working with normal steel, not Grisha made, which was easier to work with. He just had to make sure everything worked.

The prototype models before had always failed, though this one was smaller and easier to understand, so hopefully Jesper could get it working. Once he did, he would make a bigger model, then he would add to it, make it more powerful.

He heard pacing from behind him, and David appeared, looking as messy and curious as ever. David wore a purple and gray _kefta_ , same as Jesper, though Jesper knew he was infinitely times better than him and always would be.

"Still working on the pressure cannon?" David asked. Jesper nodded. He was working on a cannon that would be able to take a Squaller wind, build it up, and shoot it at high speeds. Essentially, make pressurized air into a weapon. It would save Ravka a lot on ammunition, and if Jesper had been anything but Zemeni-born and loyal to Kerch as well, he wouldn't be worried. Luckily, both of those nations are on good terms with Ravka.

"I'll look over your designs and prototype, but you go get dinner. You already skipped lunch." Jesper looked around. All but the few stray Fabrikators were gone, and Jesper hadn't even noticed. Since he had started training at the Little Palace, Jesper had learned to sit still, at least for a little while. When he asked David about this, David said that he probably was jumpy because he never used his powers, and that was the best explanation that anyone else could come up with, too. And though no one could tell Jesper why he was in such good health without using his powers, Jesper had never felt better.

Jesper left without saying another word and made his way to the dining hall. Nina had told him so much about the Little Palace — about it's history, about how the doors to the War Room had once held the Darkling's symbol — but what Jesper found most odd was how, when the Darkling was in control, the different orders sat at all different tables. Jesper, of course, had made friend who wore the same purple  _kefta_ as him, but he didn't think he would have been able to make his way through the odd life in the Little Palace without Nina.

She was sitting at a table, talking to a Heartrender that Jesper knew had been one of her best friends before she was captured. Her red  _kefta_ didn't have black embroidery like it had before she took  _parem_. Her  _kefta_ had white embroidery, the color of the Dolori. Only, no one called it Dolori, because Nina was the lone Dolor.

Nina was an oddity and a legend among the Grisha. _The sole Grisha to survive_ jurda parem, they called her. _The sole Dolor_. Jesper thought that Nina enjoyed the attention, at least now. Though Jesper wasn't with Nina when she first came back to the Little Palace, so he could only guess, but he thought that Nina wouldn't have liked the attention then.

Jesper sat down, grabbing his serving of bread and chicken. He didn't think about the taste as he thought about his project, though.

"Jesper!" It was Nina's call that brought Jesper back.

"Huh?" he asked, not even registering the fact that Nina had been talking to him. Everything that happened while he was thinking was a blur, though he did distinctly remember Nina's voice.

"How have you been doing?" she asked him. "I feel like we haven't been talking as much."

They hadn't. Jesper had changed in the four months he'd been at the Little Palace, and though he still practiced his shooting and sent letters to Wylan and talked to Nina, Jesper had been caught up in his projects, skipping meals for them and thinking about them instead of talking to friends.

"I've been doing good," he said. "I've been working on a cannon that shoots air at high speeds. It'll take a Squaller and maybe a couple guys to hold it in place if we want it to be mobile, but I think I can get a good design by the end of the week." Nina was looking at Jesper, though Jesper felt she was more interested in her bread than her conversation with Jesper, though Jesper saw a few nearby Fabrikators flick their head to him at the mention of his cannon. "How about you? Learn anything new?"

Nina nodded, not that it was a surprise. Nina was the first new Grisha type since the Sun Summoner, though everyone knew that the Sun Summoner could happen. "I can get rid of callus and add callus if necessary." She held out a hand. "Feel."

Jesper did, and it was the smoothest skin he had ever felt on a grown woman. "Why would you want to add callus?" Nina shrugged.

"It's hard to walk on skin that's completely un-calloused, you know." She took another generous bite, and Jesper thought back to when she couldn't even get down a biscuit, after using _parem_.

"Are you planning any, you know, trips?" Jesper asked. That was code for  _Are you going back to Fjerda yet?_ Jesper had been at the Little Palace nearly four months, hardly long enough to learn everything, but everything that Nina has to learn can't be taught.

"Not yet," Nina said, and Jesper knew that it was a promise.  _I'm not going to leave you just yet_ was what she was saying. Jesper knew that she may have left long ago if Jesper wasn't there, and Jesper was glad for it. No one knew exactly what had gone on at the Ice Court like someone else who had been there, no one knew exactly what went on with Kuwei's selling like someone who was selling him. No one knew what it was like to lose Matthias quite like someone who really knew him, and especially quite like Nina.

"You're better at Fabrikating than you are at gambling," Nina told Jesper with a smile, and Jesper tried to send a mean glare at her, but ended up smiling anyway because no one could stay mad at Nina.

"What're you doing after dinner?" Jesper asked Nina, grabbing for more bread.

"I'll probably go out to the lake," Nina answered. "You?"

Jesper shrugged. "I may grab my guns and work with aiming." Jesper didn't carry around his guns when he wore his _kefta_ , though he knew that they were safely in his room. They still had the important Zememi craft that made them so special, though Jesper had replaced the metal with Grisha steel.

Jesper had really perfected the art of guiding his bullets with his Grisha powers, and had even shown a few friends, though none of them had quite the same affinity for shooting.

Jesper finished his meal and dismissed himself, knowing full well that he wasn't going to shoot. Jesper was going to go to his room and write to Wylan, like Jesper did every night. And usually, he went out after he wrote his letter, but tonight he didn't feel like it. He felt like going to bed early tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the chapters so far have been kind of short and down to business but as soon as I get through the beginning (re-introducing the characters, catching you up on what I've done with them, and introducing the main conflict) it's going to get longer.
> 
> Next chapter will be Wylan's perspective, then Nina, then Kaz, and I'll move back to Inej which will introduce the conflict and the chapters will go into a more random order for whose perspective it's in then. I'm going to be entirely honest, I don't have this entire book planned, and I don't know who the actual antagonist will be, just what the conflict will be.
> 
> I just thought I'd mention it for the curious souls out there: Nina's Grisha type, Dolori, was named after the Latin phrase dolore afficio, which means grieve. The word dolores in Latin, which means pain, doesn't have anything to do with it.


	3. Chapter 3

**WYLAN**

Standing up, Wylan stretched his legs. He hadn't stood up since breakfast, and he'd been sitting for so long that both his legs had fallen asleep. He'd been running numbers, occasionally having one of his hired help come in and read to him. Of course, they didn't know that he couldn't read, they just thought that he wanted someone to read reports numbers to him while he wrote the numbers down and did the math.

Someone had come in with his meals, but Wylan hadn't been paying attention to the food much. He'd taken bites here and there, but some of his lunch still remained and he hadn't touched his dinner.

Wylan's stomach grumbled just then, and he was reminded that he still needed to eat. He grabbed the vest which he had taken off somewhere in his work, buttoned it back up, and walked to find his mother. After being directed by a few of the people working where she was, he found her painting in the garden. Though it looked like she would have been painting the garden, she painted a scene with a pond and a willow and lilies, none of which were before her. Wylan wondered how she drew it with such perfection — he knew she had traveled with Jan before Wylan was born, but there were no willow trees anywhere near Ketterdam or anywhere near the mental hospital which she had been kept for nearly ten years. She must have had a memory like an elephant.

"That's one of your best yet," Wylan said truthfully, and his mother's eyes flicked to him, her face pulling into a grin. In the two years in which Wylan had lived with his mother again, she had gotten better — though she still struggled. Wylan was glad to see that the nights of panic, of tears and bad dreams, were getting far and few between. She could still show happiness like before she had gone away, but it was never quite as much. Usually, it was contentedness and not happiness. A smile and not a laugh.

"Thank you," she said as she stroked more nice acrylic paint onto the powder blue sky in the background. It was so unlike Ketterdam, and had it not been for Wylan's responsibility as a merch, he would have sought to find someplace to live like that — a haven of tranquility and serenity. Only Wylan knew that this particular place came from his mother's imagination, and doubted that anywhere like it actually existed in real life.

"Do you want to out and get dinner?" he asked her, readjusting his gray vest as he went back to reality. Wylan didn't dress like his father — or Kaz, for that matter — in black suits pressed crisp every day and polished black leather shoes. Instead, he went with a more casual look on a day-to-day basis — gray or brown slacks, a white shirt, and a vest. It felt more natural, and Wylan didn't want to become a merch, not properly, and he felt far more at risk of that without Jesper around.

"I'd love to," Wylan's mother responded. "Where to?"

Wylan shrugged, not entirely sure of himself. Now that he had all the money he wanted, without his father having to approve everything first, Wylan had started to doubt his decisions. All of them. It was hard to be sure of yourself when someone had spent your entire life telling you that you weren't good enough.

"You pick." Wylan hoped that his hesitation wasn't obvious.

If Wylan's mother noticed, she didn't say anything. Wylan didn't pay much attention to where she picked as they got in the boat to go to the restaurant. They got out and were immediately escorted in by the doorman. Wylan knew that, were it not for his status, he probably would have needed a reservation, but it didn't bother him using his father's name to get in a restaurant a little faster than the high-status people who could actually afford this restaurant.

Wylan and his mother were seated immediately, given nice wine and menus. Wylan browsed it for a little while, but didn't actually read anything. His mother, who was fully aware of his inability to read, would have been happy to read it for him, but, lest someone heard, he didn't want to risk it. Most of the city had long forgotten about the claims his father had made just before he was arrested. But if rumors got out, someone would remember it again, and Wylan wasn't sure he could take a rumor like that.

When the waiter came around and his mother ordered, he stammered, "Um . . . Err, get me what the chef recommends." His mother looked at him but said nothing, clearly unwilling to talk about this right now, though she had given him grief before then.

"You'll be a business man twice — no, ten times as good as Jan ever was. You just need to admit your weakness. Running a business isn't about reading ledgers and personally doing all your work. It's about making the right decisions, playing in the right markets." That's what his mom had said to him after she first heard about what went on that day in the Church of Ghezen — the public version of it, anyway.

"I have admitted my weakness," Wylan had replied. "I just don't care to admit it to the rest of the world. Think of the headlines that I won't even know exist: _Jan Van Eck's Claims That His Son Can't Read Are Proven True! Could The Rest Of What He Said Be True Too?_ "

No. Wylan wouldn't do that, no matter what. But he didn't need to defend himself afterwards, because the conversation was over like that.

Wylan and his mother ate in silence for the rest of the meal, and while Wylan knew that it wasn't uncomfortable, he also knew that it wasn't the comfortable silence he and his mother had slipped into so many times before, Wylan playing music and his mother painting.

Wylan and his mother went home with hardly any other words and had a quiet night in separate rooms.

* * *

Wylan looked over Jesper's letters again. He didn't remember what they all said, just the basics, but seeing the handwriting, the poor drawings that Jesper had put there specifically for Wylan made him feel better. He remembered the way that he had spoken so surely, so brutally, it felt, and he remembered what he actually had wanted to say.

"It's not too late," Jesper had said. "I can still stay."

_You can_ , Wylan had wanted to point out. Instead he said, "No, training will be good for you. And maybe you can come back with some _kefta_ and a new skill set for your ever-growing collection."

Jesper had laughed at that, but the laugh was insincere, fake. And it ended quickly.

"You're sure that if I don't go that you won't let me stay with you if I don't train my skills?" Wylan had only nodded to that, because he didn't think he could choke out the word _No_. "Then I guess I have to go." Then he stepped forward towards Wylan, a little too close for Wylan not to blush, and Jesper grinned and said, "Okay, merchling. I'll see you when I'm done."

Then he kissed Wylan, and turned without another word. And Wylan blushed furiously, looking around to make sure that no one had seen that.

Wylan looked at the crisp letters, as crisp as the paper that always had important things written on them. The ink was black, darker than what Wylan used on a regular basis. Wylan knew that this was expensive stuff, and that Jesper was being well taken care of at the Little Palace. So why did he feel like he was abandoning him?

Wylan went to bed late that night, wishing that he could read the words, and wishing more that he could send a letter back. But, no. He couldn't. But he knew one thing: Every letter that was sent was signed _Love, Jesper_. And Wylan couldn't forget that.

Wylan went to bed that night thinking about two things: How different the Ravkan paper smells from the paper from Kerch that Wylan always uses, and Jesper Fahey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I make a "Kaz is Wylan's actual father" joke? Maybe. But you all know it's true.


	4. Chapter 4

**NINA**

After Jesper disappeared, Nina didn't know what to do. She had friends at the Little Palace, and she had since she was six, but it didn't quite feel right to be around them. Jesper was the only one who knew what happened, who  _really_ knew what happened that was around. And she couldn't quite tell anyone, either. _Hey, I'm an internationally wanted criminal who lost my drüskelle boyfriend and haven't been the same since_.

Genya and Zoya knew some of it, the watered down version of it. But they knew nothing of what she lost, nothing of what she loved.

Matthias had been buried in Fjerda, at the southern border, with the help of a few villagers who thought that they had lived secluded in the woods of Fjerda in a small hut. They hadn't known she was Grisha, and Nina felt horrible burying Matthias with the help of people who believed that Grisha were witches.

Nina stood up, taking the kit which she still had after her training, when she was done eating to go out to the lake. All the other Grisha were there, but Nina wasn't sure she would talk to them. Nina needed to practice — the more she practiced, the sooner she could go back to Fjerda and help the drüskelle get over their biases.

The far side of the lake was usually abandoned, though sometimes Tidemakers who wanted to practice alone or a Fabrikator who was sick of the stuffy workshop would take their work outside. But that day, in the evening sun, the far side was abandoned. Nina took her kit of dead cells and old bone fragments and practiced. Most of the time, she practiced alone anyway, sometimes with the company of Genya. But she unnerved a lot of people, using her powers, so she didn't show off in front of the other people like they did.

She could move the bones with ease, the same ease that she had been able to stop a heart or tear a hole in a stomach. It came easily after two years of practice. Nina didn't need to practice that, but without proper supplies, there was little she could do.

"You could do a little more practicing with your full kit, you know," a voice said from behind Nina, and Nina turned to see Genya lazily strolling towards her. Nina immediately put down the bone shards.

"I just wanted to be alone for now," Nina said, though she knew it wasn't entirely true.

"I want to be the next Queen of Ravka, though Nikolai is a bit hung up." Genya smiled to herself for the joke, though Nina didn't get it. "Okay, that was a bad comparison. What I'm saying is that what you want isn't what you need most of the time, nor is it what you get."

Nina understood that. She'd known Genya for most of her life, certainly long enough to know that Genya knew a lot more about love than Nina ever would. More than she would ever get the chance to, probably, because while Nina was certainly powerful, Genya was maybe the most powerful Grisha Nina knew of, other than maybe Sankta Alina and the Darkling.

"You lost someone," Genya said, strolling towards Nina. "I don't know who, but I know that you lost someone. You haven't been the same as you were, now that you're back. You spend so much time around that Durast—"

"Jesper," Nina corrected.

"You spend so much time around _Jesper_ ," Genya conceded, "and you hold yourself differently. Talk differently. And if it were just grief over your powers, it would have gone away now."

Nina didn't know how to respond to that. Nina was sure that all of the people who had been involved in the heist were different now: Jesper was a Durast, Wylan was a merch, Inej was a captain and a sailor, and Kaz was, well, Kaz. A different version of Kaz, but Kaz nonetheless. Nina considered and decided that he had probably changed least of all.

"Who did you lose? Do you want to talk about it?" Genya asked, finally making it the rest of the distance towards Nina. Nina shook her head. Her green eyes were already filling with tears. "Okay," Genya said. "Then I'm going to sit here and talk. Is that okay?" Nina nodded this time.

"You were young during the civil war, but I was a . . . big part of it," Genya said, and Nina already knew that, so she didn't know why Genya was telling it to her again. "I was personally best friends with the Sun Summoner."

That part Nina had never heard: She'd heard so much about Sankta Alina, the Sun Summoner, but she'd only heard the official parts of it. She'd never even seen Sankta Alina in picture, because they were all far and few between.

"Alina was a good person, even without being a living saint. She was humble, hardly ever let me try to even out her skin or add a little color to her cheeks. After the collar got put on her, everything she did was for the sake of Ravka."

Nina realized that she had never really thought about the Sun Summoner having friends. She knew that, at one point, she was going to marry the king, but her martyrdom came before that could happen. 

"She was an orphan. You know that." Nina nodded. "She never had parents, but she still felt the . . . emptiness of them being gone. Not exactly grief, but grief-like. She felt that every life lost because of the war was her fault, that she could have prevented it. She lost . . . her loved ones. Sometimes in ways that was worse than death." The way Genya said _loved ones_ , Nina didn't think she meant friends.

"What does that have to do with me?" Nina asked, looking over the lake at the Grisha who were having fun with friends.

Genya shrugged. "Whatever you want it to, I suppose. I was just letting you know that even a saint has confided in me before." Genya smiled, and though Nina could sense the sadness in it, the smile didn't seem like that of a grieving friend's. "Do you want to talk about it?" Genya asked, and this time, instead of keeping quiet, Nina teared up and nodded.

"His name was Matthias," Nina said, and Genya raised an eyebrow.

"Fjerdan name," she pointed out.

Nina nodded. "Fjerdan man. When I was captured, the ship that I was on got wrecked. I tore the bindings on my hands with an old cup and managed to save myself, only managing to stay afloat with the help of his body. While I kept our hearts beating and warm, he swam us to shore. Travelling was cold. We stopped between abandoned huts, making fires when we could, sleep together side by side when we couldn't. We learned a lot from each other."

Nina remembered the promise she had made to Matthias: _I have been made to protect you. Only in death will I be kept from this oath_.

Then she remembered Matthias's promise to her: _I have been made to protect you. Even in death, I will find a way_.

She nearly choked on her next words. "We made it, too. We made it to a town. And Matthias protected me, and when a group of Ravkan Grisha spotted us, I had to protect him, too. I told someone in Kerch, which he didn't understand, that he was a slaver, that he had kidnapped me. The captain took us to Kerch, but I never got a chance to explain why I did that to Matthias."

Genya nodded. "You were already in love." Tears were streaming down Nina's face as she nodded.

"I didn't get the chance to explain for a year. And, when he finally understood, when he finally realized that Grisha weren't witches but people, he was shot. We still don't know what happened." Nina looked at her lap, unable to look at anyone.

"What happened to his body?" Genya asked, and Nina just shook her head as tears poured down her face. "Okay," she said. "Why do you need to practice using your powers so much?"

Nina continued looking at her lap. "He got some final words in with me before he died. He . . . told me to go to Fjerda. To help the drüskelle as I helped him. To try to get them to see logic. So as soon as I get done training, once I feel ready, I'm leaving." Genya nodded. Grisha didn't generally leave, but it's not like they could hold her here against her will. In the First Army, they get to go home after a certain amount of time, and Nina felt it should be the same for the Second Army.

Genya nodded. "You want to avenge him." No, Nina _needed_ to avenge him. Nina _needed_ to go to Fjerda, she _needed_ to fight for her kind. But what she really needed was Matthias back. Nina stayed silent until Genya left, and even after that, until the moon was high in the sky and she _needed_ to go to her room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not really related to the chapter at all, but I'm curious: If Alina had sided with the Darkling and they had controlled the world together, would they have been the Darkling and the Lightling, would Alina have taken on a new name entirely, would she have been Sankta Alina or maybe just Sankta, or would she have just stayed Alina?


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah . . . here comes the Kaz chapter. I'm excited to write this, and I have been since the beginning of the book, but I did save him for last for a reason. Like I said, these chapters are going to be pretty short at first, but once I get into the actions, they'll get longer. Also: this takes place the day after the Wylan chapter, but the Inej chapter takes place on this day, though the morning of this day, not the night. It doesn't really affect things in the long run, but I just want to clear up confusion.

**KAZ**

Sitting back, Kaz looked over his papers. Profits and loss were at the best they had been, even better than they had been under Per Haskell. It didn't hurt that instead of sitting on his ass, the leader of the Dregs was actually getting out and doing stuff.

Kaz put the reports away, wanting to get out and actually do something. Steal something, maybe. Con someone. But Kaz just walked out of the office and into the main area, where everyone was drinking. There were more members than ever, so it was more crowded than ever. Kaz's crow-headed cane made heads turn as it thumped loudly through the crowd.

"Any more work, boss?" one member, Anika, asked.

"There's always more work to be done, Anika," Kaz replied, sending a glare her way. "But no, I don't have any jobs for you." Anika nodded, going back to her drinking. No one asked Kaz the question again, they all heard him clear enough. Kaz knew it. People listened when he talked, and for good reason too.

"Where are you headed to?" Rotty, who was halfway drunk already, asked.

"Out," Kaz answered. And then he was gone.

Kaz walked through the streets, glad that his leg was being used. He'd been sitting around a lot more since he became leader, doing work in its own right, but not doing as many jobs. His leg was constantly stiff now, and a little use was always good. Not for the pain, but for the stiffness, at least.

Kaz didn't exactly know where he was going, but he ended up going towards the Geldin District.

_Wylan_ , he was reminded of. _Jesper_.

_No, not Jesper_ , he thought. _Jesper's in Ravka_.

Even though they hadn't exactly stayed in contact, Kaz knew where all of the other people on his personalized heist team were. Wylan was easy to keep track of, he was the son of the most infamous ex-merchant ever. Jesper's trip to Ravka was actually a secret, but Kaz still had a spider, even if he wasn't as good as Inej. He still knew everything that went on in Ketterdam.

Nina was in Ravka, too. Training at the Little Palace. Nina and him must have been friends.

Inej was the hard one to keep track of, but he had his sources. By now, she would be in a town in Ravka called Katsk, visiting her parents. Inej was the leader of her team of pirates, which was basically a travelling gang. Only her particular gang had morals. Or, at least, more moral than most of the gangs in Ketterdam.

"Kaz," someone said from behind him, and Kaz turned to see none other than Wylan Wan Eck. He looked stunned, but that wasn't what Kaz paid attention to.

The last time they had spoken face to face was before Inej left on her ship, when Kaz was arranging which ship to take from Jan Van Eck's fleet. Since then, Wylan had grown taller — nearly as tall as Kaz, though not quite. He seemed more graceful, in a way that was only built with confidence, which Kaz would have expected after his father stopped breathing down his neck for his imperfections. He was also more defined and polished — her still dressed more like a mercher's son than a mercher, but he dressed better all the same.

"Wylan," Kaz replied, resting his hand casually on his crow head.

"What are you doing?" Wylan asked, looking suspicious.

Kaz shrugged. "Taking a walk. Even Barrel bosses like fresh air, you know."

Wylan looked confused, then seemed to realize that Kaz was talking about his status as a merch. "That wasn't what I meant." Kaz just shrugged. Wylan didn't seem to know what to say, and Kaz didn't have anything to say, so he just stayed silent.

"How are the Dregs doing?" Wylan asked finally.

"You sure you want to get yourself caught up in criminal activity?" Kaz asked, and silently added,  _again_. But he didn't say that, because if anyone was watching, they couldn't know that Wylan had actually been a Dreg.

"Kaz, really. You think I can't handle my own reputation?" Kaz hadn't been ready for a reply like that. It was quick, and it wasn't stuttering like Wylan normally talked. It was more exasperated, done with the world, than anything.

"I think that it's a lot harder than it looks," Kaz replied before it become obvious that he was stunned. Of course, Kaz had a limp and was afraid to punch someone in the face with his bare hands, so his reputation had been a bit harder to maintain when he was as new to the game as Wylan.

"You look good," Wylan finally said after a moment of silence. "No new scars, and you aren't limping as much as you used to." He seemed like he wanted to say something else, but didn't, and Kaz noticed that his gaze flicked to his hands. Had it been anyone but Wylan, he may have wanted to punch them in the face.

"Same to you," Kaz said, and then he was gone, his heavy wool coat flying as he turned quickly in a circle. Kaz kept heading the direction he had been, but eventually he circled around back to his office. Meeting Wylan had been a confrontation he hadn't been expecting. Seeing Wylan had reminded him of Inej — really reminded him, for the first time in a long time. It reminded him that, at one point, he had been planning on giving her four million _kruge_ and  getting rid of the inconvenience of having her around. It reminded him of how he had asked her to stay.

Inej was Kaz's biggest _maybe_. And the biggest thought he had about his biggest _maybe_ was all he could think of as he went to bed that night.

_Maybe she'll come back_.


End file.
